


Seconds

by flourchildwrites



Series: Fullmetal Alchemist Tumblr Events [10]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cruise Ships, F/M, FMA Secret Santa 2019, Fluff, One Night Stands, One Shot, Second Chances, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flourchildwrites/pseuds/flourchildwrites
Summary: Call their predicament fate or karma; blame it on the moonlight or the romantic music playing during the movie's wedding scene.  Whatever forces were at work, the opportunity was there for Rebecca and Jean, ready and ripe for the taking.  The only question that remained was if she was hungry enough for seconds in spite of the complications.It was going to be a very interesting vacation.Written for FMA Secret Santa 2019
Relationships: Lan Fan/Ling Yao, Rebecca Catalina/Jean Havoc, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: Fullmetal Alchemist Tumblr Events [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1043858
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27
Collections: FMA Secret Santa 2019





	Seconds

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, [areyousanta](https://areyousanta.tumblr.com/)! I am your back up gift giver for the FMA Secret Santa 2019. I heard you like Havolina, Royai and Lingfan, so I tried to tie those ships into this modern AU. However, I admit, this one-shot is primarily fluffy (and suggestive) Havolina. The struggle to keep this fic PG-13 was real, and I'm not sure that flourchildwrites/goodjudgment.exe was functioning properly, lol.
> 
> As always, I really appreciate all the kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, comments, likes and reblogs my readers generously provide. Don't be a stranger and check out my tumblr at [flourchildwrites](https://flourchildwrites.tumblr.com/). Send me questions, comments or whatever else may be on your mind.

Carnival’s newest attraction, the Mardi Gras, was a ridiculous boat, at least in the opinion of one, Rebecca Catalina.

The cruise ship’s towering atrium featured floor to ceiling windows that courted nearly panoramic waterway views. Numerous restaurants dotted the ship map; their descriptions were laced with four dollar words such as “fragrant,” “authentic” or “sumptuous” that made Rebecca’s mouth water. And if the ginormous pool on the lido deck was not enough, there was always the wonderland dubbed the “Ultimate Playground” stuck awkwardly on the back of the ship to consider. The colorful tracks of the world’s first rollercoaster at sea cut through the thick, humid breeze, and on the first day of the cruise, the line to ride the attraction stretched around the deck.

The atmosphere oozed excess. It was just the sort of laissez-faire ambiance that Riza Hawkeye shied away from. It was the precise brand of absurdity that her wealthy grandfather would choose to celebrate her college graduation. Not that he had been invited, and in this respect, Riza and Rebecca’s vacation mimicked Riza’s upbringing. George Grumman generously financed it, but ever-faithful Becca was left to weather the changeable tides alongside her best friend.

Not all waters had been as navigable as those of the murky Mississippi River. 

“Enjoying the view?”

Rebecca startled at the sound of Riza’s voice. She grounded her thoughts in the here and now, honing in on the small talk circulating around the dinner table. Her dark, wing-lined eyes darted away from the windows of the formal dining room and toward the beaming face of her best friend. Riza Hawkeye looked happy; if not for the three-course meal they’d just devoured, for the new company at their table — her long-distance boyfriend, Roy Mustang and his tagalong pal, Jean Havoc.

But where Jean was concerned, Rebecca had her reasons for reticence. Reasons she was not apt to share with Riza during this vacation, a trip that was supposed to be all about her best friend and not Becca’s bedroom faux pas. 

She simply wouldn’t think about how she had foolishly spent the night with Jean before they’d remet as travel companions of Roy and Riza that morning. Rebecca wouldn’t think about the lip-biting set of abs hiding underneath his well-pressed button-down. She tried not to notice the way she caught Jean’s baby-blue eyes darting away from her over dinner. By all accounts, their night together had been meant as a fun, casual encounter, but the next day’s harsh revelation had complicated matters.

He’d said he was on a business trip when He caught her eye in the hotel bar the night before departure, and Rebecca had not questioned him further. Not when his sweet talk was so saccharine and the rough stubble on his chin had felt so good on her-

“Are you feeling alright, Rebecca?” Riza asked; her lightly penciled eyebrows were knit with concern underneath stylish round glasses.

“Yes, sorry!’ Rebecca replied happily. Too happily, perhaps. “I’m absolutely fine. Wonderful even.”

She was not fine, let alone wonderful. She was scared shit-less of being called out by the elephant at their dinner table. A very attractive, extremely capable elephant with who had played her body like a fiddle. His brash melody was stuck on a loop in her mind.

Rebecca watched as Jean licked a bit of chocolate mousse from his spoon, and she suppressed an indignant eye-roll. The least he could do was be less like sex appeal on a stick. He could pretend not to know that he tied her stomach into knots, courtesy of their shared secret. But given the way those baby-blues bore into her, nevermind that she refused to meet his gaze, Rebecca realized that they’d have to talk about it.

The sooner, the better.

God, she hated being 23 sometimes. Young enough to take some disastrous missteps in good faith but too old to run away from her problems.

“So Catalina, how about we take a walk to clear your mind,” Jean purred. “Get to know each other a little better while these two catch up. What do you say?”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of Rebecca’s stomach, and it turned over on itself when she spied Riza’s hopeful expression.

The things she did for the love of a friend.

“Sounds like a great idea,” Rebecca uttered; her words sounded stiff as they slipped through her burgundy lips. “I’m gonna make a stop by the bar before we leave.”

She rose from their table with her room key clutched firmly in the palm of her hand. Even as her gaze lingered upon Roy and Riza’s intertwined fingers, she bid them good evening and walked across the dining room to the mahogany bar at the far end of the large room. Through a stilted smile, Rebecca ordered another glass of cabernet sauvignon, urging the bartender to be generous as the long shadow of Jean Havoc crept over her shoulder.

* * *

If the previous night had taught Rebecca anything, it was that Havoc was a livewire, energetic and unpredictable when he allowed his passions to overpower his common sense. But the chilly night air on the lido deck appeared to temper Jean’s demeanor. Quietly, he sat back against the sturdy frame of a ship deck chair with the top three buttons of his shirt undone and his hands leisurely placed on the back of his head. The spiky ends of his hair caught the humid breeze as he stared back at Rebecca with a lazy, contemplative smile. His patience offered no inroad, but neither did it discourage a conversation.

Rebecca got the message loud and clear — she would have to bring it up, or they would simply sit outside for the remainder of the evening watching Crazy Rich Ishvalans play across a large screen over the pool. 

She took yet another sip of wine and placed the stemmed glass on the table between their lawn chairs. After adjusting the hem of her green maxi dress, Rebecca swung her sandal-clad feet upon the lower slats of her deck chair. A long, slow sigh escaped her throat, and she, ever brazen, decided to jump headfirst into uncharted territory.

“I think it goes without saying that we should not mention what happened last night to Riza or Roy,” she announced. “Still, I think it would be beneficial for us to talk privately since I have some questions.”

“Don’t worry, Catalina. I don’t kiss and tell,” he said with an amused air. “But now that you mention it, I might have some questions too. Ladies first.”

Rebecca attempted to organize her thoughts by level of importance. But her wounded pride, a part of her that resented she’d been lied to, spoke up first.

“You said you were in New Orleans on business,” she stressed. “This cruise doesn’t seem like business to me.”

Jean shrugged his shoulders, turning his head to look at her.

“I thought work provided a better excuse to make a clean break, and honestly, I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

His tone shifted, tending toward a playful vibe. “I know we agreed to keep it casual, but who’s to say you wouldn’t have fallen madly in love with me and tried to follow me onto the ship if you had known.”

Rebecca’s left eyebrow arched incredulously even as her lips quirked with suppressed laughter.

“Does that happen to you often?” She quipped.

“No,” Jean chuckled. “I don’t do that sort of thing anymore. Not since I got injured three years ago. Consider last night an exception.”

“That’s right,” Rebecca hummed, “you used to be a Marine. Jealous boyfriend catch up to you and made you change your ways?”

“Nah,” he said, still in good humor, “it was a bullet. But enough about me; my turn. Do you do one night stands often, Catalina? Am I just another person in a long line of notches on your bedpost?”

She tipped the glass of wine to her lips and drank, mindful that Jean was giving as good as he had gotten. “I don’t think we’ve had near enough alcohol for that question.”

And this, she meant wholeheartedly.

“But, to give you a direct answer, no,” Rebecca admitted. “I’ve been too busy with my MBA program to go out, much less date. Last night was…”

She didn’t want to parrot his words, though certainly, their time together had been ‘an exception.’ Phrases swam in her wine-drenched mind; none were suitable. Last night had been many things, satisfying and unexpected, to say the least. But to sum it up in a single word...

“Needed,” Jean added. His eyes stayed fixed on a dark point in the distance, between the blanket of stars and the cloak of dark water. “For both of us, I think.”

It was impossible to get a read on him. Rebecca was left to marvel at the way Jean had coaxed the answer straight from her subconscious. Speechless, she could only nod and hum her agreement as her fingers fidgeted with the straps of her sandals. She scanned the lido deck, looking for some sight to redirect a conversation that had gone too far, too fast for her liking.

Small groups and couples, not unlike Jean and herself, dotted the layout. Some watched the movie, transfixed by the hilarity of a makeover montage featuring the film’s gruffest character, Buccaneer. Others simply sat engrossed in quiet conversation and after dinner drinks.

A pair of young Xingese kids, probably high school-aged, caught Rebecca’s eye. They sat on the edge of the deck with their legs dangling into a large pool at the center. A boy with slender, slanting eyes reached down into the water and brought his hand up, playfully splashing the girl next to him. She laughed in response, running a prosthetic hand through her hair and clearing the water from her heart-shaped face. And in the blink of an eye, she pulled him into the water.

The scene read like young love and are Becca watched as a childhood crush matured into something meaningful right before her eyes. The teens chased each other through the pool and moved as if they were two halves of the same whole, different as could be and complementary down to their core. When finally the girl caught the boy, she pinned her arms around him against the side of the deck. He laughed, brushing her bangs from her face. The apples of her cheeks turned cherry red.

“Do you see them?” Rebecca asked, nodding subtly in the direction of the pair. “What I wouldn’t give to go back to that age knowing what I know now.”

“And what would you do differently?” Jean asked.

She told herself that he was only indulging her to be polite, but still, Rebecca answered. Sour memories of her high school regrets were slow to be forgotten, and the question was quickly answered.

“I cared too much about what others thought,” she explained. “Spent hours trying to make my hair straighter or attempting to do my makeup the same way. I swapped band for cheerleading and junk food for gym classes. The only thing I never compromised on was having Riza as a best friend, and sometimes I’m afraid that the pressure I put on myself to conform rubbed off on her during difficult times.”

So much for keeping the conversation light.

“I used to be like that,” Jean admitted.

“You cared too much about what other people thought?”

“No, I regretted past stuff so much that I forgot to live in the present.”

Rebecca was surprised by his candor, and she turned to face him, unsure if she should end the conversation or listen to further insights. Before she could give her course of action a second thought, Jean sat up, and, to Rebecca’s continued shock, he pulled at his side of his shirt. The action revealed a patch of puckered skin, red and raised, in the shape of a crater. Jean pointed to the modest scar on his side.

“It looks small, doesn’t it?” he said. “But that bullet nearly cost me everything. Took me a year to walk again, and the doctors say my long term prognosis involves a wheelchair, but I can’t dwell on any of the what-ifs. I have to take the good stuff life offers me while I can seize it.”

Rebecca couldn’t help herself. She had to ask, needed to know why this theory of his, contrived as it might be, struck a chord.

“And what is life offering you right now?”

The question might have been bait — this much Rebecca was willing to admit. Call their predicament fate or karma; blame it on the moonlight or the romantic music playing during the wedding scene of the movie. Whatever forces were at work, the opportunity was there, ready and ripe for the taking.

All they had to do was seize it. Bottle the spark that cracked between them if only for a handful of nights at sea.

Jean leaned in and tucked a lock of curly hair behind Rebecca’s ear.

“I know we agreed not to let it happen again, but I get the feeling life is offering me a second helping of what I had last night.”

It was her turn to flash a knowing grin.

“I never said the first time was the last. I just don’t think we should let it complicate Riza and Roy’s vacation.”

“Well then,” Jean whispered. His hot breath curled around the curve of her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Are you hungry for seconds?”

For the second time in as many days, Rebecca/SelfRestraint.exe failed to run properly. Fortunately, Rebecca/ThinkingTooMuch.exe was also compromised. 

“Starving,” she replied.

**Author's Note:**

> And just in case you're wondering what happened with the one night stand, you can [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20847752/chapters/50574011). 😉 Fair warning; it's mature stuff.


End file.
